13th Black Crusade, Community Project?

[Emperors Immortals]

Im in town for 3 dyas and see this thread......crap.

 

Got a lot of time on my hands deep in the jungle here, so ill put my hand up to finish a piece Ive been kicking around, it will involve CSM and I can submit it around Oct.9 if thats okay?

[The Acid Dog]

A bit of a silly question, but it reminded me of the lyrics of their song "The Wall", and thought that maybe it wasn't a coincidence. Ah well, maybe next time

Anyway, I have begun writing my story and wouldn't mind a bit of feedback from you chaps. Be as brutal as you like, because that's (in my mind) the best kind of criticism

If I can find enough time tonight I'll take a stab at it. I'll PM you once I have something.

EDIT: PM sent.

[Dosjetka]

Gydeon & emperors immortal: Well, I'm pretty sure that Musketeer12 will have no problems accepting you onboard, so welcome! I look forward to reading your respective stories :)

 

Brazentooth: Cheers mate, much appreciated! I'll reply to your PM a bit later on, once I've fully assimilated the contents.

[Guest Musketeer12]

@Gydeon & emperors immortal yeh thats not a problem at all.

@Ludovic, looking good mate

Musket

[No Foes Remain]

Re-thinking the story, still plan to have it follow the same idea but have a different start.

[Brother-Chaplain Kage]

Regretfully, I think I will have to withdraw from this. I've now got a few sculpting commissions plus my own projects and I just don't think I'll have the time.

[ChaosRising]

I'm game  for some creative writing. Which forces are left?

 

Nevermind...I will go with either Deathguard, Word Bearers, or Black Templars. Any input on what would work best is welcome.

[Guest Musketeer12]

@kage, you sure man you could just hand it in later? I could save you a space even if you dont want to do that?

@ChaosRising, any faction you want man

 

Musket

[Gydeon]

Just an update after a furious weekend of inspiration. Several pages of paper have been sacrificed to the Dark gods ( Maddening scribbles of red ink mixed with doodles done in blue.) in hopes of fleshing out the Battle for Kasr Holn. If everything goes fine, I shall have a snippet for your review by this weekend or the next.

[Brother-Chaplain Kage]

Sure, I can probably do that.

[Hyaenidae]

I kinda knew this was going to happen, but I'm backing out. Real-Life has become extremley hectic, and I barely have time to do anything personal anymore.

 

Sorry, folks.

[No Foes Remain]

I kinda knew this was going to happen, but I'm backing out. Real-Life has become extremley hectic, and I barely have time to do anything personal anymore.

 

Sorry, folks.

Don't worry about it Heathens, take care of yourself and worry about the hobby later.

[Nakuth]

Hmmmmmmmm, I am seriously considering this, but with the caveat that I may not be able to complete my task.

 

Please pencil me in for a short story, on the Loyalist side. I am considering putting something together regarding the Subjugators. Currently debating whether it should involve the 3rd Company and the destruction of a Ramilies class star fort, or something more 'intimate'.

[Emperors Immortals]

Okay, I have a piece in second draft thats all about an imperial guard regiment and its involvment with the Alpha Legion. Are they traitors if they still fight for the Emperor? probably....hehehe....

 

 

Ill get a rough draft posted in the next few days, good luck guys :)

[Teetengee]

I think I am also going to be doing black legion but between the crusade being Abby's baby and the nature of the story I am going for I don't think  will step on anyone's toes. (although word bearers might make more sense, I still have to figureit all out.)

[Guest Musketeer12]

C+C welcome
Prologue

 

Trooper Drax Hensley moved wearily through the darkness. Damn sentry duty he thought. He had been at it for four hours now, and to top it all off he had another three hours to go. The days had been long this past month; all the marching and drilling was taking it's toll on all the men, and the pace the Drill Sergeants expected them to progress didn't help either.

It was even as if anything was going to happen on this Lindus. It wasn't in directly in front of the Eye, it wasn't an untrustworthy world of unhappy ungrateful colonists, it wasn't even a world plagued by pirates. It was a simply a peaceful world in a simple cycle of life. It was probably for practical reasons that the Saul 53^rd had been stationed there.  The 53^rd wasn't exactly the most experienced of regiments; it's only action had been a small reprisal raid on the pirate holdouts of the Blind Death Nebula. Dutifully, it had carried out the assignment in an unexpected conjunction with their superiors; the Angels of Eternity.

 

Hensley had heard the stories about the Astartes, of how they dropped into certain death and prevailed, how they could walk through fire that would rip companies apart and live to tell the tale.

 

They had made the that action feel like child's play, at least at first. By the time the 53^rd even had recon boots on the ground a three mile perimeter had been
secured. They had left as quickly as they had secured a perimeter, indeed Drax had only been able to take a glance at the giants, and even that had chilled him. Suppose they deserve to be that high and noble, after the beating they gave the scum Drax reasoned. They had made the campaign much easier, but the 53^rd had still lost three hundred comrades, three hundred brothers.

 

BANG!
 

Suddenly the peaceful night sky was light up by a fireball. It landed to the east of his company's position. It had the shape of a chimera, indeed by the
falling, burning shapes falling behind it, Drax assumed it was indeed the faithful APC he had come to know and love.

Breaking into a sprint, Drax ran over the smooth grass, watching as the sky was constantly light up by yet more burning vehicles. None of them had landed in his
company's direction yet, but Drax was sure that if one did, it would be absaloute mayhem.

Adrenaline began to fill Drax's veins as he ran into his company's encampment. It was a mess. Men scurried around everywhere, falling into the rapidly deploying firing lines. Officers and NCO's barked out orders everywhere, screaming at panicking men to pull themselves together, demanding Vox operators to call for assistance. Drax looked around, searching for the familiar faces of 3^rd Squad, 9^th Platoon.

“Hensley, get your forsaken self over here right now!”

Drax quickly turned, training had taught him not to keep someone with so much strength in their voice waiting. Sure enough, it was none over than Sergeant-Major Knox. The man had a hatred of Drax that was neither reasonable or understandable, but Drax had taken it in his stride. Now he would have to once again face up to this bully in the most respectable manner possible.

 

“Why have you abandoned your post Hensley? I could have you on a charge for that!” Knox was furious. He began ranting about loyalty and duty, about how he had failed in all his symbolic duties; but Drax was too busy ducking the debris that was now thrown up by the falling fireballs.

 

“INCOMING!!!” some green replacement had obviously misinterpreted the path of one of the pieces of debris.

“GET DOWN!!”, this rookie was obviously nervous, maybe even to the point of a breakdown.

Then everything went dark.....

[Iron Father Ferrum]

Excellent idea.  Here's a sneak peak at Chapter One of my tale:

 

 

I.  Alpharius. That Kind of War.

 

Thoros Bale-Eye looked up from the holo-tank as two new Astartes entered the strategium.  They instantly stood out; the few Traitor Marines manning the Vengeful Spirit’s command center were all Black Legionnaires, their armor painted abyss-black and trimmed in gold.  The human thralls that manned the banks of cogitators and terminals scattered about the room likewise wore vestments – mismatching in cut and style – that were all dyed pure black.

The armor of the newcomers, however, was a curious, shimmering mix of blue and green, its hue changing depending on the point of view. 
The larger of the two wore battle plate that had probably begun existence as Mk.IV Maximus armor, though the snout of the helm was obscured by the visage of some lizard-like beast.  Whether it was a decoration or the helmet had actually warped into such a saurian image, Thoros couldn’t say, but it certainly made an impression.  Even more striking, however, was the lithe little dragonling that perched on the Chaos Lord’s shoulder, it small wings fluttering with every step and its tail wrapped tightly under the officer’s armpit.

His companion was equally strangely attired, his own armor having sprouted spikes and patches of scales that looked sickeningly organic, not painted or bolted on.  His own helm had also mutated, the vox-grill having lengthened and widened into a broad, fanged maw.  Both wore swords belted at their waists; the first paired it with a wicked-looking power axe that likewise swung from his belt, while the second had a bolt pistol mag-clamped to his thigh.  Both also sported long cloaks that flapped about their armor, the exterior of which was covered in more of the same blue-green scales that decorated their battle plate as if cut whole from the hide of some great sauroid.

Thoros didn’t bother trying to hide the frown that pulled at his lips as the two Alpha Legionnaires strode up to the holo-tank.  He personally considered their methods beneath him and the Legion, always had and always would.  But orders were orders.

As his visitors came to a halt, the one with the dragon-faced helm reached up and removed his headgear.  The face beneath was noble and classically handsome, hairless and golden-skinned.  Piercing blue eyes, like shards taken from some primordial ice berg, stared out at Thoros from beneath a slightly heavy brow.  The Black Legionnaire looked to the other, waiting for him, too, to de-helm, but the second man simply crossed his arms.

Turning back to the first, Thoros straightened up and rested his hands on his own power maul and plasma pistol, hanging from his waist. 
“I’m Captain Thoros Bale-Eye.  You command Force Omicron?”

The Alpha Legionnaire nodded.  “I do.”

“Your name?” he asked, his choler rising already.

The Alpha Legionnaire’s lips quirked as he replied, “I am Alpharius.”

 

[Kol Saresk]

This is all I got at the moment. It doesn't strike me as flowing and I can't seem to get past it.

 

 

 

 

 

He walked through the narrow alley while the rain poured down all around him. Dirt on the building walls mixed with the rain and slowly slid down to the streets, where they sluiced around his feet. Lightning flashed overhead, adding its brilliance to the meager illumination in the dark space. He pulled the collar of his long coat higher up his neck. It was pointless since nothing was covering his head, but it made him feel better. It was on nights like these that the darkness did its best to hide secrets, he thought to himself.

 

“What do we have lieutenant?” he asked the closest officer. In front of the kneeling junior Arbites was the body of a woman. At least, if it matched with everything else then it would be a woman. Much of the front of the body had been torn out and it looked like some of the organs were missing. The victim’s head had been completely destroyed, leaving no room for visual identification.

 

“Not much sir. As you can see, most of the victim is, well, nonexistent.” He replied, gesturing to the mess. Blood had been painted all over the walls, forming jagged, knife edged words that scratched at his eyes if he stared at them to long. “Is it true what they’re saying sir?”

 

“And just what is that ‘they’ are saying Lieutenant?” the man countered.

 

“That this is a serial killing? That five identical murders have happened across the hive?” the junior Arbites asked, fear glazing over his eyes and turning his voice into a whisper.

 

“No, the killings are not identical.” He answered, truthfully. However, only a fool would think them to not be connected. Each killing was different, but only in the slightest of ways. All of the killings involved the entrails being spread around the body in some indeterminate pattern, as well as the same words over and over again. Not only that, but the victim was always a young woman, ranging from twenty to thirty years standard.

[Balthamal]

Since it seems previews are in order I'll add mine here. Please feel free to provide some feedback since I'm quite keen to make sure this doesn't end up in a jumbled mess like my last attempt with the DA

 

There was something primal in the act of watching blood being shed. Bubbling fountains from lips as thrust blades and claws rip through delicate internal organs. Great spraying gouts from severed limbs, still twitching from firing nerve endings. Eruptions from stumps that used to sit heads atop them, now nothing more than cleaved ruin as their owners lie in charnel heaps of cooling flesh and bone. It was just as powerful with no blood in evidence, vitae boiling away in the crackling energies of powered weapons, veins and arteries cauterized shut by the million degree heat of a plasma wound. Even drunk in mockery from chalices chained to the armour, a promise that even in death sport will still be had. Skol’gan, Hope’s Bane, Captain of the Het’Alkalab, Son of the VIII Legiones Astartes and of Terra thinks of none of these things. Not here, now. He thinks only of how he gets none of the usual thrill from the act of slaying when those he slays are Eldar, their blood is richer, almost spiced to the taste, lacking the adrenaline laced saltiness found in humans in those seconds before they die. He thinks of how he is not carrying out this murder himself. And he thinks of how, because of the creature standing 5 feet away, he feels soiled….

 

……..violated……

 

…… complete.

 

It is repulsive and alluring in equal measure, it’s every move and gesture sickening him yet mesmerising. He thinks of what he has gained by entering into a compact with such an abomination but strangely always returns his thoughts to what he has lost too. He can now taste the fear he and his men inflict in a far more visceral and real sense than ever before. He despises that the Warp has touched him. And he revels in the spectrum of terror that throbs just beyond mortal senses. Ten thousand years of war, mere words cannot hope to encapsulate even a microcosm of its true meaning: slaughter across the stars in scale unimaginable unless it is witnessed in its entirety in one moment. Even genetically-bred war gods take note of such devastation, even in lives measured in millennia. Skol’gan has fought the Long War from its first night, not as fools from other Legions reckon it, the retreat from Terra but that fateful moment when he stood aboard the Nightfall with his Atramentar brothers and watched a world burn not from anger or spite or even pleasure but from an abstraction; justice. And in the millennia that have followed he has murdered and flayed, beat and reaved his way across the galaxy and sworn never to have anything to do with the creatures beyond the veil. Until now.

[No Foes Remain]

My story for the Marines Exemplar didn't turn out so well and I'm thinking of changing chapter or force. But I don't really know what to choose.

 

Either:

• the Harbingers who specialise in planetary assaults and boarding actions (sound badass) but they don't have a colour scheme and 40kwikia seems to think that they are the same as the Imperial Harbingers.
• Or the Warp Ghosts. Pretty decent colour scheme, but bugger all is known about them.
• Or any other faction really. I was never good with making choices.

 

Help me, brothers.

[Balthamal]

Warp Ghosts could be the way to go since you have carte blanche to do with them as you please

[No Foes Remain]

Warp Ghosts could be the way to go since you have carte blanche to do with them as you please

You'd think that but no. To me thats more of a limitation as others may not see them the way I do.

 

But looking at the other chapters I'm stuck on a decision, I'll leave it a while then come back to it.

[Guest Musketeer12]

I would personally go Harbringers

 

Musket

[No Foes Remain]

Yeah, but I'm not sure on what colours to make them.

[Iron Father Ferrum]

Hmmmm. . . . make 'em gray.  Dark gray.  With red accents.